


A Bruise on a Pretty Face

by 100dabbo



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Supportive Alfie Solomons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: Tommy comes home from a night out with a bloody face. Alfie helps him clean up.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92





	A Bruise on a Pretty Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cattycat1310](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cattycat1310/gifts).



> Inspired by a [piece of art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703639) Cattycat1310 made and sent me this morning, lifted some dialogue from it too lol :)

The room was dimly lit because it was the way Alfie preferred it. Though not because he was miserly or a Dickensian old man, but because he knew that a harsh light casting on Tommy’s face when he got home wouldn’t be something that he’d like to see in brightness. He preferred those fine cheekbones of his to be softened and shadowed when they were dotted with bruises or speckled with blood. He knew the way a low light could make it less vivid, less painful to look at.

And he was right.

The front door was opened and creaked on its hinges. It had always done that, ever since they’d bought that house over a year ago and they’d still never gotten around to fixing it. He could hear it from his place in the living room, sat in that old armchair covered in Cyril’s hair and biscuit crumbs. He shifted as it groaned its way back closed, waiting for Tommy to emerge.

In the hallway, the man’s soft footsteps sounded against the floorboards. He kicked off his shoes and eventually stepped into the doorframe of the living room, wincing.

He didn’t dare look up, avoiding eye contact because he knew what Alfie could see; the heavy, purple bags beneath his eyes that were yellowing by the second, the sharp cuts on his right temple with crusted red blood splattered against it, as well as even newer, fresher blood trickling from his broken skin. 

His cap was held in his right hand, its brim shining with scarlet. It was on the cuffs of his sleeve too, and that shirt’s collar, a whole bright spray of it. Alfie couldn’t tell if it was Tommy’s or that of his adversary, but really, it didn’t matter. Blood was blood, and when it was on Tommy, Alfie couldn’t stay quiet.

He took his glasses from around his neck and leant forward in the chair, placing them on the tip of his nose.

“Who the fuck did this to you?” Was his first question, waiting for Tommy to stop looking at the fucking floor and tell him the truth, with a bit of eye contact preferably.

After a beat, his eyes finally flicked up and he tossed his hat on the sofa where Cyril was sleeping. After a slow, deep inhale into his lungs, he responded, though it wasn’t to the question that was asked of him.

“Don’t worry,” He consoled, as if Alfie were the one with the blood coming out of his face. His bruised lips stay straight as he spoke, his expression almost apathetic, “The other bastard looks worse.”

Alfie sighed and stood from the armchair, beginning to approach Tommy with his slow gait. 

It’d happened to him too many times - too many little fights and skirmishes here and there in bars because his night out had gone too far, or he’d had had one too many drinks. Each one ended the same as soon as he got home, too; a speech from Alfie and his holier-than-thou sobriety. So, Tommy sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets, frustrated before the lecture had even begun,

“Listen, Alfie, I could really do without a fucking sermon right now, about how I—”

“I said,” Alfie’s deep tone was controlled and quiet, calming even. He cleared his throat and took a breath before repeating his question, “Who the fuck did this to you, Tommy?”

Tommy’s cheeks were throbbing, both from embarrassment and pain, and he dropped his façade. Tears brimmed in his eyes and he repeated his reply once more,

“He looks worse…”

The other man only shook his head, landing his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, still eyeing up the blood and bruises across his face. 

“Come on, then.”

And he walked past him, letting him follow through to the kitchen to get him cleaned up. Tommy leaned against the counter, raising a hand to his temple to cope with the pain, and he winced again as he touched the open cut and brought his hand back down, looking back at the blood coating his fingers and knuckles. Every single part of him felt sore.

Alfie turned around to him, holding a bowl of warm water, and he dipped in his handkerchief to start washing his wound. He adjusted the glasses on his eyes, a melancholy gaze in them; less of irritation or disappointment at Tommy’s actions as they were usually full of, but rather with a sympathetic sadness, like he wished it actually was him with the cuts and injuries instead. 

He pressed the soaked cloth to Tommy’s face, leaning in close as he winced out a ‘fuck’, the sting making his eyes well up even more.

“You need to be more careful with this pretty face of yours, Tom…” Alfie breathed out, wiping away the dark and crusted blood across his cheekbone.

“Is that all there is to your lecture, then?” Tommy asked, grabbing his hand to stop it from cleaning. Alfie stared into Tommy’s eyes through his half-moon glasses and sighed again, dropping his handkerchief onto the counter to free up his hands, moving them to work down Tommy’s bloody shirt and slip it off his arms.

The man’s arms ached as he stretched them out to slide off the shirt, and as he was uncovered, the skin revealed fresher bruises. He covered them with his hand, conscious that the more Alfie could see, the more he might have to say - his arms weren’t quite his ‘pretty face’, after all.

But in his caring, Alfie brought Tommy’s hand away, careful with his touches across his knuckles, and looked down at them in silence.

“Say what you have to say, Alfie, I haven’t got all night.” His hoarse and wobbly voice told him, half dreading it and half impatient for it, wanting to get it over with so he could walk away and leave it behind him. But instead, Alfie soothed him,

“Listen, Tom, we both know where I stand on this, and we both know it does us no good,” And he cupped Tommy’s face with his gentle hand, “So, I’m cleaning you up, running you a bath, then we’re going to bed, yeah?”

Tommy blinked back his tears, nodding while Alfie picked the handkerchief back up, dipping it into the warm water and finished cleaning him up.

Ten minutes later, Alfie was upstairs in their en-suite running the bath; scalding hot temperature, just how Tommy liked it. Meanwhile, Tommy waited in the living room beside the sleeping Cyril, stroking one hand up and down his fur, holding the other to his nose bridge, pinching at it to cope with the pain. Then Alfie shouted down for him,

“Bath’s ready, Tom!”

So Tommy stepped up from the sofa, his aching legs carrying him up the stairs and into their bathroom where the hot water awaited him.

“Thanks, Alfie, really…” He said as he stripped off his undershirt and trousers, stepping in to let the heat seep into his skin.

“Candles, cigarettes, lighter, and an aspirin,” Alfie said, pointing to said items that he’d lined up along the edge of the tub, “Call me if you need anything.” And he turned around towards the bathroom door, aiming to go back downstairs and leave the man to it, that is before Tommy caught his wrist.

“Will you stay, Alfie?” He asked, his eyes wide, “I’ll tell you what happened…”

Alfie’s gaze softened again, and he drew back, kneeling by the side of the bath,

“Of course, Tommy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I've been meaning to write a kind of fic like this for a while, showing a gentler side of Alfie. :)  
> Last chapter of One Night in Small Health coming next week btw, just thought I could do a little oneshot in between :)


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